Archives du mot-clef Paris

They were in love, already a little in 1955, captured by a street photographer that no longer exist. Now that the iPhone has replaced the Polaroid … My mum and dad in discussion. Almost certainly they were talking about opera singing … I added a pic of their wedding here…

Gilles smokes his cigarette on the sidewalk. It is very chilly this morning, boulevard de Courcelles in Paris. Under the gray sky, the metro ejects at intervals a contingent of busy citizens. Some stop at the booth to buy the newspaper. Gilles is a waiter at the brasserie. He wears tie and white apron. It has a nice face of an old boy, with lots of gray hair accommodated with Petrol Hahn and a half goatee crossing his chin. In his hand, the symbol of his function, a round serving tray on which are arranged cups, decanters, some chewy croissants, and a check that shows under the name of the institution « Since 1884 » in italics with thick and thin strokes. A good look at the fascinating natural behavior with which Gilles operates in the room, would make you think that he works there from the start. Of course, the collar of his shirt is a little wrinkled, his eyes get tired more often behind his metal-rimmed glasses but he continues to smile serving drinks on the tables of guys in suits who discuss about really important stuff. In fact, for 12 years, Gilles has worked at Emmaus and he knocked over Europe to go up of communities in crisis or dormant. This will tell you if he has met many folks destroyed by divorce, alcohol, drugs … guys worn by the street as this former English helicopter pilot who did not dare returning home while he was dying not to see his daughters anymore. Gilles went back to France a year and a half ago, and he found this job. One can see in his eyes that he is used to listen to others with this attention, the lack of which causes so much harm. Yet it is not complicated, just stop, look and smile.